


Roselyn Tabris Origin Series

by kscho



Series: The Rose of Denerim [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: DIRECT FROM ORZAMMAR, Dwarven crafts, F/M, Fine Dwarven Crafts, YOU WONT FIND BETTER, horsey - Freeform, yeet goes the arl's son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:03:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16109450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kscho/pseuds/kscho
Summary: It's Roselyn Tabris' wedding day. Should be a fun time, right? As long as almost getting raped, fighting her way through an estate, and decapitating an arl's son counts as "fun."My take on the Tabris origin story.





	1. Arranged Weddings Make Quite the Party

“Hey! C’mon, cousin, today’s not the day to sleep in! You don’t want to keep everybody waiting, do you?”

“I’d say today’s the perfect day to sleep in,” Rose mumbled into her pillow. “Who the fuck wants to get up early on their wedding day?”

“Elders and traditionalists, cousin,” Shianni replied. “Up!” She yanked Rose’s covers clear from her body, exposing her to the chill air compared to the warmth of her bed. Rose squealed dramatically and curled into a ball, shielding her eyes from the light coming from the window. “It’s your big day!”

“Why are you even in my room?” Rose asked, sitting up and stretching her arms.

“Because I begged Cyrion to let me give you the good news. You  _ do _ realize your wedding is in a few hours, right?”

Rose scrunched up her nose at the smell of something bitter and unforgiving. “According to your breath, it’s already happy hour.” Shianni took the jab in stride with a roll of her eyes. “Right. Wedding.”

“And Soris’, you dolt!”

“Lucky us.” Rose glanced lazily at the dress hung up in the corner. “So, what’s the good news of the morning?” she asked Shianni.

“Your betrothed, Nelaros, he’s here early!”

“What!?” she exclaimed, jumping out of bed. “Now? Need I remind you that I’m only in my  _ smalls _ , Shianni?!”

Her cousin’s rosy cheeks perked into a smile and her ears twitched up. “Not  _ here _ here, I just mean he’s talking to your father and Soris outside by the vhenadahl.” She reached out and flicked the tip of Rose’s pointed ear. “How much did you drink last night?”

Despite the situation, Rose smirked. “ _ I’m _ usually the one asking that question.”

Shianni’s smile sweetened. “I know. Now get dressed and get outside! Otherwise Soris might have a heart attack before the wedding!” She scoffed to herself and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Rose padded over to the cracked mirror on the wall, pursing her lips. Her vale green eyes looked bright and alert despite her body being tired and sore from the night before. Shianni had insisted on going to the local tavern and drinking the night away as an homage to the last night that Rose and Soris would be free elves. Rose smiled to herself.  _ Of course she would, _ she thought to herself. It had certainly been a night to remember. She vaguely recalled getting up on a tabletop to lead the whole tavern in a song while the musicians played along.  _ Was I on my third mug of ale at that point, or my fourth? _ That she couldn’t recall, but she could feel the alcohol making its way through her system with a vengeance.

Groaning, she picked up her brush and started attacking her thick, dark hair as she thought of the coming hours. What would her betrothed be like? Rose knew what he looked like, obviously, but they had only been around other people during those times. Alone, was he nice, sweet, and caring? Or was he more concerned with getting her knocked up? Rose shuddered at the thought. Whatever her father said, she was  _ not _ going to be just a piece of property to show off or sell away. The whole arranged marriage idea in the Alienage was common, but to her it didn’t make sense. Why arrange marriages when there’s no reason to? She shrugged to herself.  _ We elves certainly think in strange ways, _ she thought,  _ especially the elders. I can respect the efforts they make to maintain tradition to keep our culture alive, but surely they...they...what? _

Rose had lost her train of thought. They drifted back to Nelaros. Soris was constantly worrying about his own betrothed, Valora. He told me the more excited she got, the higher in pitch her voice became.  _ What an odd thing to worry about. _ Nelaros had straw-blonde hair and simple brown eyes. She wondered what their kids would look like. She frowned at her reflection.  _ Kids,  _ I thought.  _ Children, building a family...ehh…Not something I can see myself doing. _

“Rosie?” her father called.

“I’m getting ready!” she replied. Rose quickly slipped into her borrowed dress and shoved her feet into the shoes Shianni had managed to get her, nearly rushing out the door and barreling into her father, Cyrion. His weathered features made him look older than he actually was. Most people of the Alienage age like that.

“Easy there, Rosie!” he chuckled, stopping her from tumbling to the floor.

“Sorry,” I said. “These stupid shoes are kinda tight.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful, regardless,” he assured her. “You’re so much like your mother, Rosie. Especially her spirit. You definitely inherited that. I wish she could be here today.”

Rose smiled a little. “Me too, Father.” She shuffled her feet uneasily. “Can we talk about the arrangement?”

“Still not pleased?” He sighed. “Of course we can talk. Sit down,, I’ll put up your hair.”

“Why can’t I choose who I marry? What if he’s a total prick?”

“Now, Rosie, you shouldn’t talk bad about your betrothed. As for the answer to your question: tradition, child.”

“I knew it,” she muttered bitterly.

Her father smirked. “With so little contact between Alienages and little chances to travel, you must trust your elders.”

“I wanted to travel,” Rose protested, “just like Mother.”

“Everything is taken care of and put into place,” he continued, ignoring her statement. “All we need is you and Soris.”

“But I don’t want to get married! What if I want to become...I don’t know! A traveling vagabond! Or...or…”

He laughed. “I was the same way, Rosie. Before I met Adaia, I was ready to pack my bags and go hunt with our Dalish kin in the south. Just be glad I personally chose your match. Without parents to represent you, people like Soris are handed off to whoever the elder can find.”

Rose bit her tongue, trapping whatever retorts her brain had concocted. “Okay, Father,” she said. “I’ll trust you. Besides, I look  _ pretty good _ in this dress.”

“Alright, now go find Soris. The sooner this wedding starts, the lesser chance you have to escape.”

One retort made its way through. “A small chance is still a chance,” she blurted out with a sly smirk.

Her father laughed again. “I see you still have your mother’s smart mouth, too.”

“And proud of it!”

Still smiling, he shook his head lightly. “You know, maybe someday it’ll get you into more trouble than you can handle. Oh! One last thing before you go, dear. Your martial training...the swordplay, knives, and whatever else your mother trained you in, best not mention it to your betrothed.”

Rose bit her tongue again. She knew her father was inadvertently asking her to stop with everything he had just mentioned, but he said it with respect, like he knew she was good at it. Well, she  _ was. _ She was pretty good with a knife and an absolute dream of a pickpocket. If she traveled outside of Denerim, she’d be on the border of a ranger and a rogue.

“He’s going to find out sooner or later.”  _ Dammit, Rose! _ she cursed herself.  _ I really need to learn when to shut the hell up. _

“Later,” her father insisted. “Definitely later. We don’t want to seem like a troublesome family. Adaia made that mistake.”

“Mother was a great swordswoman,” Rose said indignantly.

“Yes, that she was,” he agreed sadly. He turned around to the kitchen table, grabbing a pair of boots and presenting them to her. “Here, your mother would want you to have these. It’s the most I can give you on the start of your new life.”

Rose held the boots tenderly. They were her mother’s favorite pair. She always wore them. She had won them in a game of cards when Rose was little. They were enchanted to always fit the wearer snugly and hardly wear down. “Thank you, Father,” she said, tearing up slightly.

Her father gave her a quick hug. “Go on and find Soris,” he said. “I have no doubt he’s waiting to be rescued by you, and I have some more things to tend to before the wedding.”

Rose put the boots in her room and walked carefully to the front door. Her dress was a hand-me-down, but she wasn’t going to be the one to ruin it. The sun was glowing tenderly in the sky, illuminating the happy scene in the Alienage. Weddings were common, but the elves would take any excuse to throw a party. Near the center of town, by the vhenadahl, Soris and a few other elves she knew were gathered. All of them besides Soris had gigantic mugs of ale in their hands.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Soris said once he noticed Rose walking up. The others paid her no mind, continuing to drink the day away.

“Glad to see they’re celebrating already,” she said. A pale, blond haired elf in the back took a deep breath and promptly passed out to the ground. She stifled a laugh.

“Care to celebrate our last moments of independence together?” Soris suggested.

“Please,” Rose replied. They walked down by the bridge over the river. She leaned over the side, looking down at the sluggish water below. “Cold feet?” she asked.

“Are you surprised?” he scoffed, folding his arms and also leaning against the side of the bridge. “Apparently, your groom is a walking dream. My bride sounds like a dying mouse.”

Rose snickered and squinted at him. “I’ve heard she’s quite nice. I talked to her not long ago. She’s nervous enough, so don’t go making it worse by worrying about her.”

Soris frowned. “Dunno, maybe the whole marriage thing just isn’t for me.”

Rose sighed. “Me neither. I’d always pictured myself with a band of relative-idiots traveling the world.” She stood up straight and brushed her dress off. “I suppose that’ll never happen now.” An idea popped into her head, more of a joke than anything. “What do you say to blowing this town and hopping on the nearest caravan west?”

Soris laughed. “What in the world would we do for a living?”

“We could be a two-person circus. What do you think?”

“I think it sounds ridiculous. But, if we weren’t getting married today, I might’ve taken you up on that offer. C’mon, let’s go find our spouses-to-be before we say ‘I do.’”

They found Shianni waving at them from the vhenadahl with the other bridesmaids around her. What caught Rose’s eye were the three human men walking up behind them. The head of the three, no doubt a nobleman by the looks of him, grabbed one of her childhood friends, Nola, from behind. She screamed and jumped away. Soris and Rose hurried up. Nola retreated to safety, if it could be called that, behind Rose’s protective outstretched arm.

“It’s a party, isn’t it?” the man asked in mock innocence. “Grab a whore and have a good time.” He laughed. “Savor the hunt, boys. Take the little even wench, here. So young and vulnerable,” he purred.

“Rose,” Soris warned his cousin.

“Touch them and I’ll gut you!” Rose shouted, standing as tall as she could (not that that was saying much, as the elves were, on average, about a foot shorter than most humans).

“Please, my lord,” one of the groomsmen pleaded, “we’re celebrating weddings, here!”

“Silence, worm!” the man shouted, giving him a whipping backhand slap. The groomsman fell to the ground, holding his cheek.

“So much for diplomacy,” Soris groaned.

“Like they’d ever consider it,” Rose retorted.

“What’s this?” the man inquired. “Another lovely one to keep me company?”

“Dream on, you fu-”

“Rose!”

The man scoffed loudly. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Rose smiled sweetly, watching Shianni creep up behind the man. “Nope. And I don’t care, either.”

Shianni reeled back her arm and shattered a thick, glass bottle on the man’s head. His eyes rolled back and he crumbled into the dirt. The other two men rushed up, looking down at the third. “Are you insane?!” one of them exclaimed. “This is Vaughan Urien, the arl of Denerim’s son!”

Shianni’s face paled. “What? Oh, no...Maker…”

“Things got out of hand,” Rose said. “Look, I doubt you’ll want word spreading of the arl’s son being taken down by a little elven girl, so just take him back, and we’ll keep quiet about this whole thing.”

“You’ve a lot of nerve, knife-ears!” the third sneered. “This’ll go badly for you.” Together they gathered up their friend and retreated out of the Alienage.

“Oh, I really messed up this time,” Shianni groaned.

“Hardly,” Rose teased, breaking into a smile.

“I’m going to go clean up and get ready. I’ll see you two soon.”

Rose turned to Soris. “These are the days I’m gonna miss. Getting into trouble, getting out of trouble just as easy. We’re professionals at this point.”

Soris smirked weakly. “I doubt they’ll stop with our weddings. I mean, come on, who’s gonna keep  _ you _ indoors? Is everyone else alright?”

Rose’s groom and Soris’ bride stepped forward. “I think we’re just shaken,” Valora said. “What happened?”

“I suppose the arl’s son started drinking too early.” Soris cleared his throat dejectedly. “Well, let’s not let it ruin the day. Rose, I believe you already know Valora?”

Rose smiled warmly and hugged Valora. “It’s good to see you again.”

“The same to you.”

“Soris, this is Nelaros,  _ my _ betrothed,” Rose introduced. They shook hands Valora quipped up and snared Soris into a conversation, leaving Nelaros and herself to talk. Being so close to him, she noticed that there were flecks of green in his eyes, along with a tiny scar on his bottom lip.

“Here we are,” he said. “Are you nervous?”

Now that Rose thought about it, she was. “Yeah,” she admitted with a purposeful cute smirk. “I hadn’t given the day much weight until now, but I think I’ll be okay...I suppose…”

“Come on, cousin,” Soris insisted. “We should let them get ready.”

“We’ll see you two in a little bit,” Valora assured them. “Don’t disappear on us.” Her and Nelaros departed to their own families scattered about the square.

From behind Rose, Soris muttered, “Don’t look now, but we have another problem.”

“What now?” she groaned.

“Another human just walked in. Could be one of Vaughan’s, or just another troublemaker, I’m not sure.”

She glanced over Soris’ shoulder. A tall, olive-skinned man with a beard and a ponytail was glancing around the square of the Alienage. He wore strange, brightly polished armor with a longsword and a shortsword slung across his back. He didn’t seem to carry swagger, but rather humility. He crossed his hands behind his back and nodded respectfully to any elf that passed by.

“We should move him along before someone does something stupid,” Soris suggested.

Rose hesitated. “Do you mean me?” His silence was a decent answer. She scoffed and punched his shoulder lightly. “I don’t know, he seems...different. But if it makes you feel better, I can go talk to him. Why don’t you go...mingle?” Soris squeezed her shoulder as he passed. Taking a deep breath, Rose started to walk towards the man. She nearly lost her nerve when he noticed her and watched as she approached.

“Good day,” he greeted her with a slight bow. A slice of suspicion crept in to Rose’s head. A human would never,  _ ever _ show respect to elves, at least not where they were from. “I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding.”

“Thanks, I suppose…” she replied skeptically. “Forgive my rudeness, but why are you here? I don’t know if you’re aware, but humans aren’t particularly welcomed with open arms here in the Alienage. It might be better if you leave.”

“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of leaving.”

Rose shook her head slightly as if she had misheard him. “Please?” she asked with a bit of humor in her voice and an awkward smile.

“I refuse, yet again,” he replied, echoing her tone. “Now what?”

Rose sighed again, letting her shoulders slumped as she crossed her arms. “Well...you  _ are _ armed and armored, so I won't push it. I know what humans are capable of. Have a drink, or whatever, but by the Maker, if you so much as-”

“I would say the world has far more use of those who know how to stay their temper, Rose,” Keeper Valendrian said, coming into the conversation. “It is good to see you again, my old friend,” he said to the man. “It has been far too long.”

“You know this man, Elder?”

“This is Duncan, Commander of the Grey Wardens here in Ferelden.

Rose cocked her head.  _ Sure, let's shake this day up a bit more.  _ “Well met, Duncan,” she said. “I'm Roselyn, or Rose, if you like. Sorry about the attitude I gave you. We've already had some unpleasant visitors today.”

“Hardly an offense, dear girl.”

_ Girl? _

“You still haven’t told me why you’re here, Duncan,” Valendrian reminded him.

“The worst has happened,” Duncan said gravely. “A Blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Grey Wardens to Ostagar to fight the darkspawn horde alongside his armies.”

“Yes,” Valendrian said sadly. “I had heard the news. Still, this is an awkward time. There is to be a wedding - two in fact.”

“So I see. By all means, attend to your ceremonies and celebrations. My concerns can wait for now. We shall speak more later.”

“Very well. Rose, treat Duncan as my guest.” She nodded. 

“And for the Maker’s sake, find Soris and take your places.” She flinched away with a childish smirk, finding Soris where she had left him and dragging him to the stage of the courtyard. Nelaros and Valora were already in their places. Soris and Rose took theirs between them.

“Ooh! Soris!” Valora quipped. “There you are. I was afraid you’d run off.”

“No, I’m here,” he assured her, “with Nelaros’ blushing bride in tow.”

“You look radiant,” Nelaros complimented his bride. If she hadn't been blushing before, she certainly was now.

“It looks like everyone's ready.”

Rose jabbed Soris in his side and hissed in his ear, “Good luck, Soris.”

“You too, cousin,” he whispered back, snickering. “Maybe it won’t be so bad, after all.”

“Friends and family,” Valendrian announced, “today we celebrate not only this joining, but also our bonds of kin and kind. We are a free people, but that was not always so. Andraste, the Maker’s prophet, freed us from the bonds of slavery. As our community grows, remember that our strength lies in commitment to tradition and to each other. You may begin, Mother.”

“Thank you, Valendrian,” the priestess said. “Now, let us begin. In the name of the Maker, who brought us this world, and in whose name we say the Chant of Light, I-” She was distracted by a small group of human guards marching up to the stage, headed by Vaughn. “Milord? This is...an unexpected surprise.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Mother,” he said, disregarding her, “but I’m having a party, and we’re dreadfully short on female guests.” He laughed to himself. I scowled.

“My lord!” the Mother protested indignantly. “This is a wedding!”

“Ha! If you want to dress up your pets and have tea parties, that’s your business, but don’t pretend this is a proper wedding.” He came up behind Valora and shoved her forward. “We’re just here for a good time, aren’t we boys?” His lackeys jeered in a agreement.

“Just a good time with the ladies, that’s all,” one of them said. The one closest to Shianni snickered loudly.

Vaughn looked at the bridesmaids. “I’ll take these two,” he said, gesturing to Nola and Nessa, “the one in the tight dress-” Valora whimpered. “and where’s the bitch that bottled me?”

“Over here, Lord Vaughn,” the third lackey called. He grabbed Shianni’s arm roughly.

“Let me go, you stuffed-shirt son of a bitch!” she shouted.

“Oh,” Vaughn moaned, “I’ll enjoy taming her.” He turned to me. “And see the pretty bride.”

“Don't worry,” Nelaros assured Rose, “I won't let them take you.”

“ _ I _ won't let them take Shianni!” she shot back, pushing him out of her way. Her temper was flaring violently.

“Ah, yes,” Vaughn purred. “Such a well-formed little thing. I’m sure we all want to avoid further...um, unpleasantness.”

“You touch me,” she warned, standing as firm as she could, “and I'll kick your balls so far is your throat you'll be swallowing them for a week.”

“Insolent bitch!” he snapped, backhanding Rose. She reeled, but she had been hit harder before.  _ Much harder. _ She came back and punched him in his nose, hearing a satisfactory snap and crunch. He howled in pain and stumbled back. Rose smirked, but before she could enjoy the moment, his second lackey returned the punch. She hit the ground hard, feeling a distinct, yet familiar fuzziness in her face as stars danced in her vision.


	2. Widowed Before the Marriage

“Maker keep us, Maker protect us. Maker keep us, Maker protect us.”

“Stop it!” Shianni snapped at Nola. “You’re driving me insane!”

Rose turned on her side slowly. She groaned and made to sit up. “I have to admit,” she muttered, “it was a good punch.”

Shianni helped her sit up. “Thank the Maker you've come to. We were so worried.”

“Is everyone alright?” Rose asked, pressing her palm to her temple, wincing at the angry throb that greeted her.

“We're scared, but unharmed,” Valora said. “So far. They locked us in here to wait until that... _ bastard _ is ready for us.”

Carefully getting to her feet, Rose took a look around. They were in a small side room filled with nothing but a table, a couple of chairs, a few stacked crates, and some empty bottles. Nothing to work with, nothing that would get them out of the room, at least.  _ Chances are we’ll be raped, beaten, then killed, _ she thought.  _ No way Vaughan is going to let an elven girl who punched him live… _ She grinded her teeth together. “That son of a bitch,” she muttered. “We need to get out of here.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold my breath,” Nessa interrupted, “but the door is locked and solid, and we’re unarmed.”

“Maker keep us, Maker protect us. Maker keep us, Maker protect us.”

“Great,” Shianni groaned, “now this again.”

“Look,” Nessa suggested, “we’ll do what they want, go home, and try to forget this ever happened…”

“She’s right,” Valora agreed quietly. “It’ll be worse if we resist.”

“I beg to differ,” Shianni and Rose said simultaneously.

“Someone’s coming!” Heavy, metal footsteps could be heard approaching the door. Rose’s heart hammered in her chest. She had occasionally thought of what happened to the elves that were taken, but she had never wanted to know the hard truth. Five guards entered the room, the lead with his sword drawn. 

“Hello, wenches,” he said. “We’re your escorts to Lord Vaughn’s little party.”

Nola shot to her feet. “Stay away from us!” she shouted.

The guard’s expression never changed as he slashed his sword across Nola’s neck, spewing blood everywhere. They all gasped or cried out as she fell, choking on her own blood. Rose dropped to her knees and held her up, grasping at her throat hopelessly. The fresh blood soaked into her dress. Nola grabbed desperately at Rose’s arms, trying to form words as her movements slowed, then stopped. “I suppose that’s what happens when you try teaching whores some respect,” he japed.

A fire ignited in Rose’s chest, flaring her temper hotter than a forge. Before she could even stand up, another guard grabbed her by her throat and pushed her up against the wall. Her hands immediately flew to his arm, squeezing as his hand closed tighter.

“Now, you grab the little flower cowering in the corner. Horace and I’ll take the homely bride and the drunk. You two, bind her. She’s the scrapper.”

Rose choked and fought blindly against her adversary as the other guards led the women out of the room.  “Don’t worry,” the guard hissed in her ear with a disgusting sneer, “we’ll be perfect gentlemen.” As soon as the others left, the second said. “Might as well take our sweet time, don’t you think?”

“Exactly what I had in mind,” the first agreed.

Rose struggled as her heart leapt to her strangled throat. She kicked the man in the shin, but he was wearing armor so it hardly mattered. He scoffed and landed a punch deep in her stomach, knocking the air clear of her lungs. She slumped to the floor, gasping. He wrenched her to her feet and tore the back of her dress open in one, clear jerk. They laughed.

“Be a good little wench, or you’ll end up like your friend here,” he growled in her ear.

Rose could see the puddle of blood on the floor, matching the stains and splatters on her dress. The red dominated her thoughts, her vision, drowning everything out like a scream in the night that couldn’t be silenced. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to hide her terror. She tried her hardest to struggle, to break free, but her mind was slowly retreating to somewhere dark and far away.

“Try it,” she managed to choke out. “Let’s see what parts you lose in the process.”

“Horace was right. You are a scrapper.” She heard the jangle of a belt buckle and rough hands gripped her hips. 

“Uh...hello?”

There was a fragile pause and Rose felt the man pull away from her. She didn’t dare turn around, favoring to keep her eyes shut and let her muscles tremble. “Look at this,” the second guard said. “An elfling with a stolen sword.”

Rose dared to open her eyes just a little and turned around, spotting her mahogany-haired cousin standing in the doorway with a longsword in hand. “Soris?” she breathed. 

Her assaultist shoved her back against the wall and walked a few paces toward her cousin. “Nevermind, just turn around, walk away, and forget you saw anything.”

They both walked a little more towards him. Rose stood frozen in place. Soris was the one with the sword. A smirk appeared at the corner of his mouth and he crouched down, sliding the sword along the floor, between the two guards, and to her feet in one, swift movement. Rose snatched it up without a second thought. Baring her teeth, she slashed the throat of the first guard. The second stumbled backwards and struggled to free his sword from its scabbard. Rose surged forward and slammed into him with her shoulder, knocking him to the ground. She thrust the sword through a chink in his armor and exhaled heavily.

With shaking hands, she let go of the sword. There was more blood. Everywhere. Some of it had gotten on her face, right across her cheekbones. She made the mistake of wiping at it, no doubt smearing more of it on her skin. “Fuck,” she breathed. “Soris!”

Her cousin rushed up, grasping her trembling hands. “I’m here, cousin,” he assured her. “Here, let me...try and tie up your dress.” She did as he asked. “You know,” he said quietly, pulling on the laces, “if I were you...I probably wouldn’t’ve been as brave.”

“Anyone can be brave,” Rose sniffed, stopping herself from wiping her eyes. “Where’d you get the sword?”

“The Grey Warden, Duncan, gave Nelaros and I his sword and crossbow, but that’s all we have. Nelaros is guarding the end of the hall. Let’s group up, find the others, and get out of this place. Do you know where they took the other women?”

Rose shook her head, her thoughts racing too fast to pin down. “I don’t...I don’t know. Vaughan’s quarters, maybe, but we don’t even know where it is, Soris.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather her composure. “If he’s hurt Shianni or the others,” she growled, “then I won’t stop until I see the life leave his eyes. I can’t ask you to come along, Soris.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “but the world isn’t going to miss someone like him. You don’t need to ask me.” He picked up the sword and handed it to her. “Here.” He also picked up one of the guard’s swords. “Let’s go.”

They quickly made their way into the next room: the kitchens. The cook spun around at their approach. “What’s this?” he exclaimed. “I don’t recognize you, elf!” He squinted at Rose. “Wait...is that blood?” His face contorted into a mix of fear and rage. “You’re bandits! Rebels! Outlaws! The guards will make quick work of-”

_ THUNK! _

The elven servant who was tending to the pots on the fire struck the man in the back of the head with a cast-iron pan. Blood pooled on the floor from a blunt gash at the base of his skull. “You have no idea how long that shem’s had it coming for him,” the elf said, tossing the pot aside carelessly. “I’m Adwen, the cook’s assistant. You’re one of the girls they brought in, aren’t you?” Rose nodded, grinding her teeth. “They took the others to Lord Vaughan’s room. You should hurry. He’s not... _ gentle _ ...with women. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get out of here before the storm hits.”

Soris and I crept into the hall. One thing about the elves was that they had a killer sense of hearing. Two doors down on the left there was what sounded like a game of poker with four men involved. Rose could hear a mabari warhound nearby, but she couldn’t place where it was. As they navigated the labyrinth of the estate, they ran into a few fights, each ending relatively quickly in blood.

“Nelaros is through that door,” Soris whispered, pointing at the far end of the hallway. “I think Vaughan’s room is to the right after that.” He took point as they snuck past the rooms without so much as a peep.

Once at the door, Soris slid the latch slowly and peeked inside for only a second before throwing it open. Nelaros was bearing a crossbow at three guards. One of them drew a knife and threw it expertly at Rose’s betrothed, piercing his chest right above his heart. Rose’s grip on her sword tightened like a vice as she pushed past Soris. Ignoring the impracticality of her dress, she blocked the first downward swing from the frontmost guard, kicking his knee out from under him and dodging a second swipe from another guard. Soris tackled the knife-thrower, wrapping his legs around him and locking his arms around his neck, choking him.

Rose deflected a jab, whipping her sword around and nearly cleaving the guard in half between his neck and shoulder. She pushed him off the sword with her foot and turned to the last guard. She dropped her sword and picked up his mace, testing its heavy weight. “You bitch!” he grimaced, holding his injured knee.

“Shut up,” she snapped, shattering his skull with one quick swing. She tossed the mace on his lifeless body and rushed back to Nelaros’ side. He smiled weakly up at her, holding his bleeding chest. The knife lay to the side, glistening with his blood.

“That was incredible, if not a little frightening,” he mumbled. “I would have been sure never to upset you.”

“I wouldn’t’ve taken my anger out on you,” Rose said softly, one hand grasping his and the other cradling his cheek. Her tears fell and soaked into his clothes. “We could’ve been happy, right? Eh? Maybe someday watching our kids run through the Alienage, enjoying cold winter nights together by a warm fire?” She didn’t know Nelaros that well, but she could sense that his intentions had been just, that he’d really mean to keep her happy.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “it could’ve been good. I would’ve spent every day think of a new way to make you smile. I can be glad knowing I died saving you.” He reached out his bloodied hand and touched her cheek, but she didn’t care for the blood. “Now go save them. You can do it. I know that now. Here...take this.” He held up his left hand. The wedding band reflected the light through the blood. Choking back a sob, Rose helped him take it off. His hand lowered back to his chest and Rose felt his grip slacken in her own hand.

_ Betrothed, never married, _ she thought.

Soris’ hand appeared on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he said. Then he took a darker tone, very un-Soris like. “Let’s make sure it wasn’t in vain.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Rose muttered, relighting the fire in her chest, letting it burn through every vein. She looked to the door on the right where she could hear men laughing from inside. “That’s him,” she growled. She stood up and reloaded the crossbow, gathered up her sword, and coming up with at least half of a plan. Stalking over to the door, she kicked it open, snapping the latch clean off. She raised the crossbow.

Pain.

Fear.

“Stop…”

Rose didn’t hesitate. She let the bolt fly into the nearest skull of one of Vaughan’s lackeys. He dropped like a stone and she threw the crossbow down, drawing her sword. Vaughan himself stepped forward. Shianni was up against a bookcase, pulling what remained of her dress tightly around her, choking down sobs. Vaughan ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Rose spotted Nessa and Valora huddled in the corner, trembling and not daring to even look.

“Let’s not be too hasty here,” Vaughan said, straightening his pants and rebuckling his belt. His voice quavered ever so slightly as he said, “Surely we can talk this over? How much money will it take for you to walk away, right now?”

Rose tipped her head, squinting. “The royal treasury couldn’t save your sorry arse. Soris?” Her cousin, out of her sight, threw the knife and struck the other lackey, grazing his throat at the side. 

“Dammit!” Soris hissed. “Bad throw.”

The man stumbled back against a table, holding his throat with a wild look in his eyes. Rose stalked forward towards Vaughan, gently pricking his neck with the tip of her sword. Little droplets of blood gathered on the blade. “My life is in tatters because of you and your kin. I don’t have a whole lot to lose, but your heart’s still pumping blood, so I suppose  _ you _ have a few things to lose.” She drew the sword back and thrust it through him, grabbing his neck and staring into his eyes and watching the life leave the blue irises. She pushed him off the sword and sheathed it once again.

Soris stood over the body of the third man, who had a newly opened sword wound in his chest. “Shianni!” Rose gasped, rushing to her side. Almost immediately she latched onto her, burying her face in Rose’s shoulder. Rose held her close and shushed her softly. “It’s okay,” she assured Shianni. “I’m here now, and I won’t let anyone touch you again. I’m gonna stand you up, okay? Then I’ll carry you home. Home, Shianni, okay?”

“Don’t leave me alone,” she begged. “Please...please…” She took a deep, trembling breath. “So much blood. I...I can’t stand to look at it, it’s...everywhere.”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

Shianni’s grip on Rose’s arm tightened. “You killed them, didn’t you?” she breathed. “You killed them all?”

Rose squeezed her eyes shut and placed a hard kiss on her cousin’s forehead. “Like dogs, Shianni.”

“Good.  _ Good _ .”


	3. She's Dead Already

The sun was just beginning to kiss the tops of the highest buildings by the time they got back. They spent the better part of an hour on the streets of the city trying to get back to the Alienage, a trip that only should have taken twenty minutes. They were constantly hiding from guards. Humans didn’t trust elves in the first place, but elves out of their community  _ and _ covered in blood made for a hard explanation. Rose hiked Shianni higher up on her back as they crossed the bridge into the Alienage.

“We’ll go find Valendrian and the Grey Warden,” Soris said, making for their Keeper’s house with Valora and Nessa. Rose walked a few paces before Shianni spoke up.

“You’re covered in blood,” she mumbled, “did you know that?”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Rose countered bitterly. She could feel Shianni’s arms sticking to her neck as well as feel her dress stuck to her skin. What a way to come home, covered in blood, in the tatters of her wedding dress…

“You killed those-those... _ pigs _ without a single word. Not even a curse.”

Rose didn’t respond. She was right, again. Someone as vocal as herself would have surely said something by now, but her mouth had been sealed shut the whole way home. She was thinking about too many things, too many people. Nelaros, Vaughan, Soris, Shianni, and... _ oh Maker, my father. _ What would he say when she trudged back home with Shianni on her back looking like a bucket of blood had been dumped on her.  _ This whole time he hasn’t known what happened to me. I could’ve been raped, beaten, left to die in a ditch and he would’ve never known what happened to his little rose. _

Valendrian and the Grey Warden, Duncan, met us at the gates to the Alienage with Soris, Valora, and Nessa. “You’ve returned,” Valendrian said, scanning me from head to toe. “Has Shianni been hurt? What of Nola?”

“Nola didn’t make it,” Nessa whimpered. “She resisted, and-and…”

“They killed them,” Shianni mumbled from Rose’s shoulder.”

“Nelaros too,” Soris added. “The guards found him.”

“I see,” Valendrian pondered. “Valora, are you well enough to escort Shianni back to Cyrion’s house? She needs rest.”

Valora nodded. Gently, Rose slipped Shianni off her back and handed her to Valora. Before she turned away, Shianni grabbed her wrist. “It’s alright, Shianni,” Rose assured her. “I’ll come find you soon. Promise.” The girls left in the direction of Cyrion’s house.

“Tell me, what happened?” the Keeper asked.

Rose rolled her right shoulder and shrugged, feeling emotionally numb. “The arl’s family just got a little smaller,” she said with a sigh.

“Then the garrison could already be on their way,” Duncan said, stroking his beard. “You have little time.”

Rose gave a sideways glance and a bitter smile to Soris. “Well, I was  _ joking _ about finding the Dalish before today, but I suppose  _ now _ it has to be serious.”

“The guards are here!” a nearby elf exclaimed.

“Don’t panic,” Valendrian told Rose and Soris. “Let’s see what comes of this.”

Sure enough, a dozen city guards marched through the gates, heading in their direction. Rose’s heart skipped a beat. That morning she was getting married. Less than a few hours later she had killed the arl’s son.  _ The places you can go with a few well placed blades, _ she thought. She realized her position. She was at a crossroads. Whatever was about to happen, it was all up to Rose.

“I seek Valendrian,” the lead guard said, “elder and administrator of the Alienage.”

“Here, Captain,” Valendrian spoke. “I take it you have come in response to today’s disruption?”

Nearly scoffing, Roes thought,  _ Yeah, if only. _

“Don’t play ignorant with me, elder,” the Captain responded. You’ll not prevent justice from being done. The arl’s son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palaces. I need names, and I need them  _ now _ .”

Before anyone else could speak or draw weapons, Rose stepped forward and said, “It was my doing, Captain.”

“You expect me to believe one woman did all of  _ that _ ?”

“One woman who’s smarter than a palace full of guards?” she challenged. “Yes.”

“We are not all so helpless, Captain,” Valendrian said lowly. Rose’s ears twitched at the slight tone of pride in her Keeper’s voice.

The Captain regarded her. “Ou save many by coming forward. I don’t envy your fate, but I applaud your courage. You will wait in the dungeons until the arl’s return.”

Duncan spoke up. “Captain, a word, if you please.”

“What is it, Grey Warden? The situation is well under control, as you can see.”

“Be that as it many, I hereby invoke the Grey Wardens’ Right of Conscription. I remove this woman into my custody.”

Rose shook her head and her ears perked up. “You can do that?” she exclaimed quietly.

“Son of a…” the guard mumbled. “Very well, Grey Warden; I cannot challenge your rights, but I will ask one thing. Get this elf out of my city.  _ Today. _ ” 

“Agreed.”

“Now, I need to get my men on the streets before the news hits. Move out!” He waved his hand overhead and marched out of the Alienage with the rest of his men.

Duncan turned to Rose. “You’re with me now. Say your goodbyes quickly; we leave before night.” She nodded curtly, feeling another wave of numbness wash over her. She turned around and walked, nowhere in particular, but after wandering for a minute or two, she saw her house just around the corner with her father standing outside. Her heart skipped, and she just noticed she had been crying the whole way there.

Running up to her father, she hugged him tightly before burying her face in his shirt, crying. “I’m so sorry, Father!” she sobbed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen!”

He shushed her and pet her head reassuringly. “I know, little one,” he said. “I know. Believe me when I say I am more sorry for you. Shianni told me what happened. Are you alright? They didn’t…?”

She shook her head, keeping her face buried. “No...but they tried. Soris saved me. The Grey Warden, Duncan, is taking me with him. It’s the only way I can escape with my head. We’re leaving today.”

Her father sighed with relief. She felt his shoulders relax. He held her tighter and swayed her gently back and forth. “If...this is what the Maker has planned for you, then I guess it’s for the best.” He held her out in front of him, looking into her eyes. “Your mother would have been pleased.”

“I hope so,” she said weakly, wiping her cheeks.

“Take care, my girl. Be safe. And wise. And, well...you know...I’ll miss you.”

Despite displaying a mental hardness just a few hours prior, Rose broke down in sobs, hugging her father again. “I’ll miss you too, Father,” she cried. “I’ll do my best to make you proud, I promise.”

“Oh, my darling girl,” he sighed. Holding her in front of him again, he smiled. “You’ve already made me more proud in a night than since the day you were born. You’re going to change the world, I can feel it.” His eyes shined. “Now, get going before I embarrass us both, and don’t you dare think about taking one step further without saying goodbye to Shianni.” He waved his hand toward the front door.

Opening said door hesitantly, Rose saw the house in the same way she had left it earlier. She spotted her mother’s boots peeking around the corner of her room, propping the door open, waiting for an adventure to be run in them. Valora sat in one of the dining chairs, tenderly running her fingers along a bandage wrapped around her head. She turned at Rose’s arrival.

“There you are,” she said, hugging her briefly. “Thank you! For me, for Soris, for everything…”

“We elves need to stick together,” Rose said with a struggled smirk.

“You’re the sister I always wanted. Shianni seems to have regained herself. I’ll leave you two alone. Good luck, and thank you, again.” She left through the way Rose had come.

Rose walked down the hallway slowly, keeping her footsteps silent. She realized she was terrified. Terrified of what, exactly, she had no idea. Perhaps she was afraid Shianni would only see a murderer where her sassy cousin once stood. She looked in her room and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at the candles with a trance-like look in her eyes. Her clothes had been replaced and the blood, cleaned off of her, but Rose still saw a few stains on her skin and in her hair, lingering like ghosts. After a second or two, Shianni noticed her standing there. They looked at each other, neither saying a word. Rose wanted to clench her jaw, say something cocky or outright funny, but her voice had abandoned her. Her own room felt like it no longer belonged to her.

“You took all the responsibility for what happened,” Shianni said quietly. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“No, I’m not,” she muttered sourly. “How are you holding up?”

A shadow passed over her face. “I’m...alright. As far as the others know, Vaughan just roughed me up a bit.”

Rose had always heard that people could feel when their heart breaks.  _ Well, something certainly broke, _ she thought. “Shianni…” she breathed, her shoulders dropping. She curled her hands into fists. She wanted to break something. She wanted to cut someone down with a sword. She wanted to-

“I just don’t want them treating me like like I’m some fragile doll. Like you’re doing...right now.”

“I should have come earlier,” Rose blurted out. “I should have fought harder, run faster,  _ saved Nelaros _ , but instead he died for me! Nola died. All because some stuck up, highborn  _ bastard _ who-” Shianni stood up and grabbed Rose’s hand tightly, silencing her.

“I love you cousin,” she sighed. “Make us proud out there. Show the world what an elf and a few sharp edges can do.” She hugged her.

Rose hesitated, but eventually returned the embrace. “I love you too, Shianni,” she said, worrying it was the last chance she would be able to say the words.

\-----

“Are you ready to go?” Duncan asked.

“I am,” Rose replied simply, glancing down at her change of clothes and her mother’s boots on her own feet. “As much as I can be, I suppose.”

The Grey Warden nodded, his face brightening despite the dark events of the day. “Good. Then we leave for Ostagar, the Grey Warden outpost here in Ferelden.”

\-----

The second she stepped outside the city gates, Rose was dumbstruck. She had lived in the Alienage her entire life, never been outside the walls until today. Hopefully, her shock was understandable, though she doubted it. She stared at every new detail, every new face, every new  _ thing. _ The streets of the Market District were wide and leisurely paved, damn near Orlesian grade compared to the dirt and muck of the Alienage streets. A thick-bearded dwarf called from his stand, shouting something about fine dwarven crafts direct from Orzammar. Duncan had to pull her away to stop her from staring.

“I’ve...never seen one,” she murmured, slightly embarrassed.

“Seen what?” he asked.

“A dwarf,” Rose said. Duncan’s face stiffened for a fraction of a second. She smirked in good nature. “It’s funny seeing someone shorter than me, being an elf and all…”

More times than she could count she swallowed the question, “What’s that?” The stands caught her eye the most, or, more particularly, the foods among them. Ripe fruit, crisp vegetables, the intoxicating smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. However, they turned her away with a sour grimace.

_ It’s not fair, _ she grumbled in her thoughts.  _ My people suffer and starve in the mud while humans, entitled to everything, apparently, life high- _ She cut herself off with a shake of her head. Now wasn’t the time to bicker about elven rights. Soris and her used to scoff at the drunks that used to talk about the days of Arlathan and try to encourage the others to demand rights. Most times it was Shianni they were laughing at. Why try when there won’t ever be any changes?

Rose stopped abruptly at the city gates, her breath catching. Duncan noticed and glanced at her. Her hands flexed nervously. Sure, she had seen a few pictures of them, even seen them from afar, but she had never, ever,  _ ever  _ in her life been even remotely close to a…

Horse. A horse. A deep brown one. That’s all it was.

And Rose was terrified.

“That’s a horse,” was all she could choke out.

Duncan nodded. “It is.”

“Are we getting on it?”

“Eventually.”

Rose grinded her teeth together. “No.”

Duncan scoffed. “No?”

She shook her head curtly. “That’s...no…” She stepped skittishly in place. “I don’t do horses.”

Duncan  smirked smally. “Would you rather walk?”

“Yes,” Rose answered confidently.


	4. Ostagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Grey Wardens! Feat. a few of my OCs as characters!

Ostagar had been built on the northern edge of the Korcari Wilds by the Tevinter Imperium, centuries ago, to prevent the wilders from invading the northern lowlands of Ferelden. The Grey Wardens had only been let back into Ferelden a few decades ago by King Maric, but they had made Ostagar their base of operations, their watchtower against the darkspawn. Darkspawn were creatures of legend, abominations tainted by Pride who felled the Maker’s throne and were cast down, abandoned, doomed to search out the Old Gods for eternity.

Duncan had taken advantage of the long road trip and told Rose the whole story. He had told her that the threat of a darkspawn invasion wasn’t immediate, but it soon would be. When she asked how he could assume that, he didn’t answer her. She had shrugged at his silence and decided to be patient, as answers would no doubt reveal themselves in time. Duncan was sure that the bulk of the horde would eventually try and strike Ostagar first, but such a mass of darkspawn had yet to be spotted. At the moment, there were only a handful of Grey Wardens in all of Ferelden, Duncan claiming seniority by at least fifteen years.

The fortress, although considered a ruin, was quite an awe-inspiring sight. The Tower of Ishal, the ruin’s beacon, stood high in the sky, easily the most preserved part of the fortress. Although its fires weren’t lit, it still commanded attention from miles around. Ostagar was split across a small valley, a massive bridge connecting the two sides. The Tower of Ishal greeted Duncan and Rose first, and they passed under its shadow on their way in.

“Wow,” Rose said aloud, glancing up at the massive stone walls and flying buttresses.

Duncan glanced back at her, smiling. “Yes, it is quite impressive. I was the first Grey Warden to return here, years ago. King Maric granted us permission to carry out our duty here.”

“It’s incredible. I’d say it’s more impressive than Fort Drakon back home.” She looked around, noticing the stillness of the fortress. “Though with a lot less people.”

“There are only two Grey Wardens here at the moment, myself included,” Duncan explained. “There are two other recruits that will be accompanying you for your Joining tomorrow, but our numbers stand at only fifteen, the remaining being representative soldiers from all around Ferelden. As I mentioned before, I feel there is a Blight coming, though without the proper threat, there is no need for Ostagar to be full to the brim with an army.”

Rose nodded. “So you keep quiet out here, not drawing unwanted attention?”

Duncan smirked. “Exactly. In the meantime, we should proceed with the ritual.”

“Ritual? Okay, what do you need me to do?”

Duncan motioned for them to walk. “Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. The other Grey Warden here goes by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, seek him out and tell him it’s time to summon the other recruits. Until then, I have business I must attend. I shall be in the main hall at the other end of this bridge, should you need to find me.”

\-----

Duncan never described what Alistair looked like, so Rose went on to spend nearly thirty minutes searching for him, whomever he was. She eventually gave in and asked a red-haired man if he knew who Alistair was.

“Oh, sure, he’s the junior Grey Warden here,” he said. “But I suppose he’s second in command since he’s one of two Wardens actually here. Ser Jory’s the name. I hailed from Redcliffe where I served as knight under the command of Arl Eamon. Am I correct in assuming you’re Duncan’s recruit?”

_ Word travels fast, _ she thought.  _ Or I’m just really slow at finding one man. _ “Yes, and the name’s Rose,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you. I believe Alistair was just over that way-” He pointed back the way she had come. “-talking to a representative from the Circle of Magi.”

“Thanks,” she said, turning around to backtrack. Jory had pointed to the ruins of the entrance hall. Most of the roof was gone towards the back, letting the sunshine in brightly.

Two men were standing towards the back, both standing in an argumentative way, making me hesitate to approach. The first was dressed in tan and red robes with a brooch of the crest of Kinloch Hold on his chest, naming him a mage. He had a staff loosely hung across his back and crossed his arms, glaring at the other man. Rose was taken aback slightly. She had expected Alistair to be a man near Duncan’s age, not closer to hers. He had sandy-brown hair and soft brown eyes with an accompanying smirk in the corner of her mouth. His armor set was absolutely stunning. His arms, shoulders, and calves were protected by scale armor with striking blue leather beneath it. A steel cuirass shone brightly on his chest, turning back to scale on blue near his abdominal area and layering over itself like shingles for his bases. A majestic depiction of a griffon dominated the cuirass, shining proudly on his chest.

“What is it now?” the mage asked. “Haven’t Grey Wardens asked more than enough from the Circle?”

“I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, ser mage,” Alistair said politely. “She desires your presence.”

“What her Reverence ‘desires’ is of no concern to me. I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the king’s orders, I might add!”

Alistair’s smirk deepened. “Should I have asked her to write a note?” he jabbed.

The mage’s cheeks went red. “Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!”

“Yes.  _ I _ was harassing  _ you _ by delivering a message.”

The mage huffed. “Your glibness does you no credit.”

Alistair crossed his arms and tried to contain his smile. “Here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you... _ the grumpy one. _ ”

“Enough,” the mage sighed. “I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, you fool.” Rose sidestepped well out of his way as he stormed past her.

Alistair turned and walked over to her. “You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together,” he said.

Rose was utterly astonished and tried not to show it visibly. All her life the only humans she had ever encountered were looking for a good time or a good drink. All were dishonorable as possible. But what she had just witnessed threw her mind for a spin out the window. Alistair was sassy and approachable. He was definitely a man, but he carried a boyish attitude about him comfortably. She wanted to tell him he was the strangest human she had ever met, but she held her tongue, realizing her own situation.

“I know exactly what you mean,” she sighed, glancing back at the mage.

Alistair smiled at her response. “It’s like a party: we could all stand in a circle and hold hands! That would give the darkspawn something to think about.” He chuckled at his own joke and studied her face closer. She suddenly became a little self-conscious about her pointed ears sticking out from underneath her hair. “Wait,” he said, “we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you happen to be another mage?”

Rose cocked her head. “No, I’m not, and no again, we haven’t met. You’re Alistair, right?”

“That’s me. And I suppose that makes you Duncan’s new recruit. Glad to meet you.” He stuck out hand. “As the junior member of the order, I’ll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining.”

Rose took his hand and nodded. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Rose.”

“Right,” he sighed, glancing at the sky, “that was the name.” He looked back at her. Rose found herself somewhat distracted by how soft his eyes were. “You know...it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is?”

Rose felt compelled to keep a light attitude. “Probably because we’re too smart for you,” she said, crossing her arms in mock pride.

Alistair’s cocky smile returned. “True, but if you’re here...what does that make you?”

_ Shit, _ she thought to herself. She returned the smirk and shrugged, dropping her arms and sighing, “Just one of the boys?”

His relaxed and childish aura was damn near infectious. “Sad, isn’t it?” he teased. The humor faded away from his face and voice. “So, I’m curious. Have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?”

She shifted her stance slightly. “No, I haven’t,” she said. “I’m not even really sure what they look like.”

“When I fought my first one, I wasn’t prepared for how  _ monstrous  _ it was. I can’t say I'm looking forward to encountering another.” He shook his head. “Anyhow, whenever you’re ready, let’s head back to Duncan. I imagine he wants you recruits to meet together.”

“Sounds good.”

“If you have any questions, let me know.”

She thought for a minute as they turned back to the center of the fortress. “Actually,” she said hesitantly, “what do they look like? The darkspawn?”

Rose expected Alistair’s face to darken somehow, but he just shrugged, his boyish attitude intact. “They all look sort of different...but there  _ are _ different types. You’ll learn more about them if…” He stared at the ground for a second before shaking his head. She pretended not to notice as he glanced at her. “You’ll see genlocks and hurlocks more often. Hurlocks are the taller, paler ones, and genlocks sort of look like...demented goblins.” She snickered at his description, and it seemed to encourage Alistair. A slight smile appeared on his lips. “For now, you can picture them as homeless corpses that growl and try to steal your sweets.” Rose stifled a giggle, almost cursing herself for feeling...whimsical?

“I’ll keep that in mind when they haunt my dreams,” she joked back.

To her surprise, whatever merit was in her words, Alistair’s face changed somehow. A flash of fear and seriousness went as fast as it had appeared. She subconsciously wondered if there was another side of Alistair she wasn’t seeing.  _ Maybe he’s actually a former highwayman who murdered someone and escaped the headsman’s axe like me, _ she thought. She left it alone as they walked, instead glancing around the various elements of the fortress.

Several tents had been erected in the open spaces. Small signs were staked in the dirt pointing, telling where things were, she assumed. Two templars stood to the right of one, hands behind their backs and standing tall as a handful of what she assumed were magess lounged behind them in the middle of their circle of tents. A few of them were playing cards, laughing and shouting joyously. She wanted to join them, but she doubted the templars would appreciate it. There was a makeshift corral on the other side of the camp. Rose could hear dogs barking behind the fence. A man standing by the gate, no doubt the kennelmaster, was talking to an armored soldier, both leaning nonchalantly against the fence.

_ Isn’t there a Blight going on? _ Rose asked herself.  _ Why is everyone so...relaxed? _

“You found Alistair,” Duncan said once we walked up. “Good. I’ll assume you’re ready to meet the other recruits, then.” He half-glared at Alistair. “ _ Assuming _ you’re quite finished riling up the mages, Alistair?”

Alistair shrugged, making a face. “What can I say?” he said. “The Revered Mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army.”

“She forced you to sass the mage, did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don’t need to give anyone more ammunition against us.”

Alistair nodded thoughtfully. So he wasn’t a  _ complete  _ fool after all. “I apologize, Duncan. I’ll go collect who we’re missing.”

\-----

“This is Eliza Castle, from the Circle of Magi of Kinloch Hold.”

The mage was a girl around my age. She leaned on a staff that held a cloudy, abstract crystal in the curled wood at the top. Her steel-colored hair was held in a sloppy bun. Her bright, brown eyes seemed to pierce through Rose’s, reading her thoughts and secrets as she looked her up and down. She was dressed in Kinloch Hold clothes, but with an added flair. She had cut the sleeves off and replaced them with grey steel pauldrons and bracers. Most mages wore robes, but she had black pants that had swirls of red worked into the fabric. It was mesmerizing, but none so as the three-inch heels of her boots. She nodded curtly at me, flashing a slight smile.

Alistair gestured at the red-haired man she had met earlier. “I believe you’ve met Ser Jory?” The knight and Rose exchanged a friendly nod. “Then Callie Mahariel of the Dalish.”

Rose met the eyes of the elven woman and nodded. “Aneth ara,” she murmured. She seemed a little worse for wear, pale and overall sickly looking, like she was in the middle of a bad cold. She had dark auburn hair that reached the small of her back, braided tightly. Her facial tattoos -her vallaslin- curved around her cheeks in intricate branches. Her Dalish armor exposed her midsection, showing off impressive abdominal muscles. A sleek but lethal looking bow was slung across her back, accompanying a quiver full of arrows with yellow fletchings. What surprised Rose the most was her choice of footwear, or rather, a lack of one. Her leggings looped down to the arch of her foot, but she wasn’t wearing any shoes or boots. Her lithe feet were bare.

“And Rain Amell.”

A blonde mage rolled her eyes at the sound of her name. Rose assumed quickly that she disliked her last name, possibly due to a bitter past. But what did she know? She didn’t have any colorful flair like Eliza, but she  _ worked _ her clothes. She looked like a monk in dark yellow robes that was ready to kick my ass at any given moment. Her staff was stuck in the ground beside her by the blade, like a halberd, but instead of an axe at the top, her staff sported a jagged egg shape the color of amber. Just below that, three dark feathers and a strip of red cloth was tied to the staff. She had fierce grey eyes held an air of sadness mixed with sour rage.

“Roselyn Tabris.”

Rose gave a curt wave and crossed her arms. It seemed she wasn’t the only reserved recruit. She could tell they all had a past they would rather not discuss. Perhaps, like her, it had earned them a one-way ticket to the Grey Wardens. Murder, thievery, whatever it was, they had all ended up in the same place. Rose smirked to herself. She could roll with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of these chapters have been converted from the third person. Some parts have simply been copied and pasted to save time, so please let me know if there are any screw ups that I need to fix! <3


	5. Good King Cailan

Rose spit mud out of her mouth and glared at her opponent. Callie Mahariel glared back at her, fists at the ready and keeping light on the balls of her feet. Rose shot to her own feet and charged her without a plan in mind. She caught her easily and started hammering away at her sides. Rose kept pushing, bringing up a foot to kick Mahariel off balance. They both tumbled to the ground. Mahariel snaked a foot up and against Rose’s stomach, throwing her up and over. Next thing she knew Mahariel was on top of her, pinning Rose’s wrists above her head.

“Yield,” she shouted in her face.

“Fuck you!” Rose yelled back.

“Alright, break it up, break it up!” Duncan announced.

Mahariel relented, but Rose didn’t. The second her grip released on her wrists she jabbed her right in the neck. Mahariel rolled to the ground, choking a little and coughing a lot.

“Tabris!” Duncan warned.

Rose looked up at their Warden-Commander. A mistake. Mahariel’s hands were at Rose’s throat, pulling her back to the ground. Rose dug her blunted nails into her exposed arms, squeezing her eyes shut as her airway was blocked.

_“Mahariel!”_

The Dalish elf snarled something at Rose in elvhen. Rose opened her eyes and bared her teeth. Her throat flexed painfully as she tried to speak. Mahariel cocked her head menacingly at her. “What’s that, flat-ear?” she hissed. “I’m afraid I can’t understand you.”

A lopsided smirk slowly spread on Rose’s lips, finally getting her words out in a hoarse drawl: “You’re not as good as you think.”

She leaned down closer to her, squiniting. “Am I not?”

Rose jerked her hand up and jabbed her throat once again. She fell back, letting air flood back into Rose’s lungs. She sucked in air and quickly scooted around, wrapping her thighs around Mahariel’s head and neck. “You’re too cocky!” Rose shouted at her. “Now yield!” There were several long seconds and Rose thought she would simply let her suffocate her with her thighs. Then Mahariel smacked Rose’s leg several times and Rose let her go. They stayed flat on the ground, both of them taking heaving breaths. Rose brought her head up and said, “How did that look, Warden-Commander?”

“It looks like she broke your ribs, Tabris,” he responded.

Rose felt her sides tentatively, feeling a slight but invasive bump on her right side. She groaned and rolled onto her stomach, getting to her feet. “Tackle me again and I swear I’ll throw your cot in the nearest pond or off the highest battlement here,” Rose warned the other elf.

Mahariel, still flat on the ground, held her throat protectively. She nodded and took a deep breath, giving her a thumbs up and saying something in elvhen. “You’re something else, Tabris,” she admitted. Hearing the words were vastly different than what Rose thought they would feel like. She had imagined a couple dozen different scenarios in which Mahariel, the roguish Dalish elf, would finally relent and give her the credit Rose hadn’t first realized she was searching for. Screaming for, really. A lifetime in the Alienage hadn’t left any room for personal pride. It was all about elves, the community, their supposed _family_.

Rose could have laughed at the brutal irony.

Mahariel almost didn’t take the hand she offered, glancing between it and Rose’s face skeptically. Eventually she did, nodding thanks before going off to sit down somewhere. Rose smirked. “I’ll see you in the ring tomorrow!” she called to her. Mahariel flipped her off, never looking back. _She’s warming up to me_ , Rose thought with another smirk.

“You should go see the healer, Rose,” Duncan advised, walking up. He looked slightly annoyed, but a little proud as well. “That was resourceful, the way you fought.”

“I cleaned up a fair amount of tavern fights back home,” Rose joked. She brushed off her pants.

“You’ve been training with Alistair, yes?” With a sword and shield?” She nodded, curious. “Perhaps you should train with a different sort of weapon.”

“Like what?”

“Ever tried dual wielding?”

\-----

The sun was shining brightly, warming Rose to her core almost uncomfortably. The light nearly blinded her whenever she looked down at her newly made cuirass. Alistair paced the length of the tower slowly, silently observing the edge of the Wilds in the valley below. Rose’s new twin blades sat beside her as she braided her hair, interworking a blue ribbon of fabric into it, the same color of the Grey Wardens. She hummed absentmindedly with her eyes closed as she wrapped the braid around her head like a crown and pinned it down.

Three months. Three months as a Grey Warden. So far, all it had been was bad dreams, a bigger appetite, and countless and endless hours of training. Rose spent more time falling and lying in the dirt than she spent on her feet. Despite her massive improvement, she was getting a little worried. Her armor felt tighter across her midsection. Rose found herself watching what and how much she was eating, not to a specific point, but she found herself worried nonetheless. What if she wasn’t fit enough to fulfill her Warden duties? She shook her head and pushed the thought from her mind.

“Dozing off there?” Alistair asked.

“Maybe,” she mumbled with a smile. “Just thinking, Alistair, nothing else.” Rose stood up in the sunlight and stretched.

“About?”

Rose groaned from her stretch  and looked out across the valley. It was beautifly green and gilded golden by the waning sun. Tall sentinel pines stood towering over the lesser trees. Towers of Ishal of the forest. “Nothing of particular interest,” she waved off, her cheeks blushing ever so slightly. “Just...my armor.”

“Armor?” He squinted at the light that also lit up his sideways smirk as he looked at her.

“It’s…” She was embarrassed to even say anything. “It’s a bit...fuller. Like it’s getting more snug, or something.” Alistair cocked his head at her. Rose felt on the spot. “It’s just...I’ve never not been able to see at least _one_ of my ribs...and...I dunno, I’m worried.”

“W-Worried?”

Her blush deepened. “Yeah...I mean, I used to…”

Alistair rested his hand on hers, stopping her anxiety dead. “Rose,” he said, “that’s...that’s _completely normal._ ”

“What do you mean?”

“It's fine that you can't see your ribs,” he explained with care. “More than fine, Rose, it means you're healthy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, promise. Could...could you always see them? Back in the Alienage?”

Rose nodded, withdrawing her hand and grimacing down into the valley. She felt she should say something, but perhaps silence was a better explanation. Maybe. “A lot of us elves could,” she said. “It’s how things are in the Alienage. You survive where you can and suffer where you can’t. It’s always been that way and it’ll...always…” She trailed off, squinting towards the Imperial Highway.

“Look, I’m sorry if I-”

“No, Alistair, look.” She pointed. Although she had never seen it, it wasn’t hard to pick out the mass of people coming down the highway as the royal army. “Think Cailan is with them? Alistair?”

Rose turned around to find Alistair at the other side of their lookout, not even paying attention to the commotion about to happen in camp. Her ears dropped slightly as she cocked her head. “Alistair?”

When he turned around, he was just a second too late from masking his odd expression with a smirk. “Seen the king once, you’ve seen him penty,” he joked.

“What do you mean?”

Alistair laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, yes, well...I, um… Before Duncan recruited me, before the templars and the monastery, I grew up at Redcliffe.” Rose sat down and listened intently. “Long story short, Arl Eamon sort of raised me. He was King Maric’s brother-in-law. I saw him around the castle a few times, Maric. Even met Cailan when we were both kids.”

Rose chuckled. “Small world,” she commented. “It’s kinda funny that I’ve gone through my whole life never getting _close_ to even seeing the king, and we lived in the same damn city.”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, dear Rose?” Alistair teased, his light attitude returning.

“Hardly,” she shrugged off with a face. “Just funny, is all. Believe me, I’m not in any rush to meet him--I don’t want to meet him at all, actually--I just have a habit of finding the odd irony in the world.”

“Oh, good! I’ll bring the quick wit and you can bring the bitter irony!”

“Warden Alistair? Warden Rose?”

“There’s our relief,” Rose noted blandly. “Suppose we can’t avoid the _royal_ welcome…” She picked up her swords and strapped them to her back, getting ready to hike back into camp. Alistair followed closely after. They passed Amell and Castle, having a quick and friendly exchange before officially heading back to the barracks. Alistair seemed to meander the closer they got. “Did your legs fall asleep up there?” Rose asked funnily.

He shook his head. “It’s nothing.”

Rose nodded. “I assumed,” she teased. Seeing that his expression didn’t change, Rose punched his arm lightly. “I think I’ve figured it out, how to rank us based on our secretive pasts. I’m first, then Rain, then you, then Mahariel, then Eliza.”

“You’re first, huh? Think you outdo me with your devious secrets.”

Rose didn’t answer at first, staring ahead. “Yeah,” she finally answered. “Yeah, I do. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.

**Author's Note:**

> Rose is definitely my favorite character so I'll write the most about her. I'll include the full origin and add in multiple side pieces that fit in with the storyline of the game and some that could be put anywhere in that timeline.


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